User blog:Oshawott777/The King of Fighters XI
Terry, Kim, Duck King-“Hooray for Kim!” “We’re rooting for you!” Kim and Terry are waiting in the airport lobby while Chan and Choi serenade them with feigned, no two-faced and half-hearted cheers. This unprecedented combination was arrived at by a series of twists and turns. When Mai, irritated at Andy’s repeated absences and tired of acceding with the usual “Well, if you two have to enter together, then I suppose it’s OK”, proactively insisted on taking a vacation with him during the period scheduled for KOF, Joe Higashi also took himself out of the running because it overlapped with the Muetai title match. Tizoc, who had joined the team last year, had already entered on another team, provoking Andy to think outside the box. Just then, as if Heaven-sent, a possible candidate nonchalantly waddled walked by. “Terry, is that you? You sure have changed.” Clad in his usually flashy attire and wearing sunglasses, Duck flashed his familiar Mohican hair style, unique gait, and affable mood. This reunion with Southtown’s minor celebrity Duck King gave Terry the feeling that light was at the end of the tunnel. Even more: “KOF? Great, I’m in. Just the thing to take me out of this current bout of boredom. ♪” Having secured his assent then and there, the harsh features of Duck’s face, in Terry’s eyes, underwent a miraculous change and he was looking into the face of God. “Well, Terry, what about the other guy? You need a team of three for KOF, don’t you?” “Well, I have one possibility…” Terry intended to rely on the better nature of the Korean Team led by Kim. Since Choi Bounge had sat out last year’s tournament owing to the participation of Jhun Hoon, it stood to reason a little shake-up this year would do no harm. This year, however, Jhun was not scheduled to enter, so the breaking up the team might prove a little…challenging. “Tsk, tsk. If you can get Kim to join, then, that’d solve everything, right?” “If Kim agrees to join our team, I could rest a lot easier, but that’s probably impossible.” “Really? Why?” “It would put Chan and Choi on the sidelines. They’ve trained for KOF all this time. They’d be crushed if we knocked them out of the picture.” Duck made an exaggerated shrug of the shoulders: what am I gonna do with this guy? “Uh, Terry, just think this through.” “? Uh, OK.” “Aren’t Kim’s two disciples taking the initiative and joining KOF on their own?” “… …” “Well?” ※ ※ “Go Terry! Go Duck! Hooray!” “We know you’re gonna win, all rightey!” In contrast to the hesitant Kim when this matter was broached, Chan and Choi were at the point of dancing a jig of full approval for Terry’s proposal. Naturally even now they’re completely being it. “Master Kim, sometimes you have to strike out on your own to take on higher level contests.” “Rightey-oh. That way we can train with a long-range plan toward the next KOF.” The two had not forgotten to embellish and justify their own sentiments. Even now when the three had boarded the plane they celebrated their departure and heaped on their praises as they waved a tiny flag. Whatever he knew of the two, if Kim had wanted to find fault, he would be unable to even find even an inkling. “Well, no ‘education’ or ‘rehabilitation’ this time, eh? A little disappointed?” “Not at all. Ha, ha, ha…” His usual refreshing grin, too, somehow lacked its keenness. At this rate would he be able to give 100 percent during the tournament…? Terry came up with a plan and nudged Kim with his elbow. He hushed the tone of his voice so Duck, sitting on the other side of Kim, could not here what he was about to say. “Hey, Kim. It’s about Duck, but I wonder if his future is OK, being who he is and all.” “… …” “I mean, if you think about his future, KOF may be just the opportunity to provide him with a little ‘rehabilitation,’ don’t you think?” “Yeah, I see…You sure have got a point there, Terry.” Kim regained some of his old zeal, and folded his arms to consider the possibilities. Now came Duck’s turn to nudge Kim from the other side. “You know, Kim, I’ve been thinking,” he whispered, “about Terry. Just how long do you think he can keep up that jobless vagabond routine? I worry as a friend, mind you.” “… …” “I think you, Kim, are just the guy to ‘educate’ him about a life more meaningful, eh?” “Yeah, I see… You sure have got a point there, Duck.” Kim became even more high-spirited. He flexed his crossed arms. With this new sense of purpose as he looked toward KOF, he was unmistakably on his way to gradually reaching the top of his game. The airplane carrying Terry, Kim, and Duck soared up into the Southtown sky. ※ ※ “…They’re gone, big guy!” “Yup.” “Those two have no idea what lies in store for them with Kim in their grills, do they?” “Not a clue.” “I’m kinda looking forward to see how their ‘rehabilitated’ when they get back.” “… …” “… …” “I’m getting a tad misty without him around.” “Yeah, just a tad.” Ralf, Clark-Over a dozen soldiers in full dress gather at the graveyard on the city outskirts in the midst of a sudden downpour. A coffin and the deep hole it’s destined to rest in have been readied as a passage from the bible is solemnly read from. “No matter how they’re performed, I hate funerals. You with me, Clark?” Ralf whispered at a level scarcely audible through the noise of the rain. “Especially for a fellow contractor.” Clark removed his sunglasses, revealing the wistful expression on his face. The two had a long association. Ralf tacitly understood what Clark was about to say. The man supposed to by lying in the coffin had been 59 at the time of his death. He was at an age that had he lived a normal life, he’d probably have had a wife, children, maybe a grandchild or two, and would soon be ready for a carefree retirement. In actuality, though, he had been lugging explosives around the world’s hot spots until the time of his death. He most likely had no family, and even if he did spent most of his accursed life away from them. That, or he had soon separated from his family, having been driven violent by the horrors of war, and led a solitary life. And at this funeral, life’s final ceremony, the only person who was not a soldier among the attendees turned out to be the priest. The priest closed his bible, and in his place the soldier leading the ceremonies gave the order. “For the soul the brave of a brave soldier cut down in battle, Jim Oldgate…” The tone of his voice was undeniably one of grief for his fallen comrade, but the quality of his practiced delivery suggested he had sent off a number of men up till this point. “Saaa-lute!” Barring the priest, everyone in attendance raised their right hand in perfect unison. Included in the front row along with Heidern stood Ralf, Clark, Whip and Leona. Whip held a small white flower in her left hand. Only his dog tag and that white flower were placed in the coffin. The flower in Whip’s hand was a favorite of the departed. His actual remains, however, had been blown all over the battlefield, impossible to retrieve When the salute ended, the coffin was placed into the ground and buried. The soil soaked by the rain fell on top of the coffin, producing mercilessly loud thuds. Once the work had ended, the soldiers dispersed alone or in tight groups. “Ralf, Clark, a word, please.” The one-eyed man dressed in a formal uniform of the first rank called Ralf, Clark and Whip to stop. “I’m going to have you three join KOF again this year. And, naturally, this is an order.” It was just as they had predicted. But the exclusion of Leona weighed on their minds. Must be due to the fact that… “The group calling themselves ‘Mukai’ are not the actual Orochi Hakesshu. That is obvious.” This confirmed Ralf’s very fears, and not only that Heidern continued, “However…” It’s almost certain that they’re trying to exploit the power of the Orochi in some form. In the previous tournament they succeeded in unleashing the Orochi, perhaps as the first step toward that end. Under that influence, Leona had temporarily lapsed into unconsciousness. It would be a rather difficult task to return her to normal. And there’s one more thing to worry about. “Commander, I think it may have something to do with this mission but…” “What is it?” “It’s about the giant airship we reported to you during our mission directly before our participation in the previous tournament. I thought some details remained unclear.” The one-eyed mercenary replied without a change in his expression or the tone of his voice. “…We’re still looking into that matter.” “Is that so? I couldn’t get it out of my head, being such a peculiar incident. “You’ll be briefed if we learn any details. Meanwhile, concentrate on your new mission.” “Yes, sir.” “The infiltration party will consist of you three―Ralf, Clark, and Whip. Dismissed.” The three stood at rigid attention as they watched Heidern walk off. The first one to break the ice was Whip. “Well, there’s something you don’t see too often, huh Captain?” “What’s that?” “Commander Heidern lied to us.” “…So?” “What do you mean, ‘So?’” snapped Whip, not making an effort to hide her displeasure. Whip went on to explain that the ones putting their lives on the line for this covert investigation were themselves. If they weren’t going to receive the information they needed, just who would be taking the greater risk? “Whippy, do you know the name of that flower you’re holding?” It was the last one remaining from the funeral offering. In Japanese it’s called a “kobushi,” a flower of the magnoliaceae family. “Yeah…it’s a magnolia.” “In the language of flowers, that’s ‘trust.’ Just how long do you think Clark and I have been with the Commander? If he decides there’s no need to tell us something, he won’t.” Whip still had something she wanted to say but managed to suppress the urge. “Even so…” It was Clark who had up till now kept his silence, but his eyes twinkled behind his sunglasses. “I can’t believe Ralf actually used the expression ‘in the language of flowers.’” ※ ※ The laughter of Ralf and the others faintly reached the ears of Heidern, who had put some distance between himself and the graveyard. This time Heidern was supposed to lead quite…perhaps a force the size of a small country’s. It was certain that he was keenly aware of the weight of his responsibility, but there was another reason beside that for his melancholy. (Adelheid…. Surely that was the name of that young man.) Leona was close nearby. The silent girl soldier made no attempt to brush back her blue hair dampened by the rain. (You are not the only one to suffer from the fate of your bloodline…) Mary-A bar somewhere in Southtown. The backdoor opened just as the clock indicated two minutes after six. The invigorating aroma of lime and gin wafted within the bar that had just opened. “…You’re two minutes late, right?” The beautiful woman in the flower of her youth with her elbow on the bar and gaze fixed on the clock whispered as she ascertained the noise of the door opening behind her. The request for the three agents to enter KOF and carry out their investigations had been made the previous day. The actual client remained confidential, but the request had come through Seth, who served as liaison, and the three most capable agents suited to this mission were selected. Vanessa and Ramon had been sitting at the bar since a few minutes ago, with Blue Mary, a.k.a. Mary Ryan, the last to arrive. “Hey, get it together. Two minutes could be fatal in our line of work.” “I’m no fan of overly serious people, but when the going gets tough… Get me?” As she was received her ribbing in stereo by two who were typically loathe to find fault with others, Mary removed her jacket and plunked herself down on the stool next to Ramon. “I’m sorry. I won’t make the same mistake again.” The duo seemed convinced by her apology, at least for now. Although there is no meddling in the matters of others among freelancers, each party is compelled to perform their respective duties to perfection―face every difficult request to the best of their abilities. Nevertheless, after a brief toast and confirmation of a few matters, the three soon engaged in chit-chat. Seth had already informed each agent of the details and course of the investigation beforehand. And they were all familiar with each other’s style of combat. There was a tacit understanding among the members that they had no need to stay with each other to train for the tournament, and if they did what they had to they were otherwise free to do what they had to. They were all adults here. Quickly polishing off her beer, Vanessa called the bartender to explain a cocktail recipe to him. The other two were interested how it would turn out. For a faithful beer drinker like her, this was rare behavior. “That’s three ounces of gin and an ounce of lemon juice. Add two spoonfuls of sugar and blue Curaçao to the mix. And finish it off with some sparkling wine….” “Isn’t that…a ‘Blue Mary’?” Mary was familiar with this recipe although she had never heard it before, or had she? No, this cocktail surely was not anything she’d committed to memory…. “Oh, you’ve heard of it?” Vanessa seemed delighted by Mary’s seeming familiarity with her request. The refreshing sound of the shaker was already clickety-clicking behind the bar. “I learned it during my old days at the national training institute. It’s called…” “…Butch.” “Yeah, yeah. Butch. Wow, that’s a shock. Do you know him?” The contents of the shaker were poured into an ice-filled wine glass, which was then filled to the brim with sparkling wine. “He was younger back then, but he sure was quite the officer. If I’m not mistaken, he wanted to be assigned to the special services, but I wonder what he’s up to now.” “…He died.” All went silent. Only the sound of fizz from the sparkling wine faintly crackled into the gloom that had insinuated itself among them. “My father and Butch were colleagues. Both of them were in the president’s bodyguard detail with the special services.” Mary spoke in a flat monotone, as if reading an old newspaper article. It happened during the assassination attempt on the president a few years ago. The assassin’s bullet fired at the president during a parade. The two special service agents guarding the president died in the attack. And both of them were related to Mary…. “Yeah, now I remember. That incident became big news in Mexico as well.” The glass Ramon nursed in his hand was covered with sweat, dampening its coaster. “This leather jacket was a present Butch gave me. He also taught me the Command Samba. It took me quite a long time to recover from that loss.” Mary tried to lighten things up with a smile, but it was clear to anyone who saw it that her smiling face was forced. The bartender behind the counter silently polished a glass, but kept an ear bent to take in their conversation. “…These days I’ve been a bit off my game, haven’t I.” Mary muttered this after a considerable amount of time had elapsed. “Are you still worked up about that? It’s not like you’re Japanese―two minutes is nothing!” “Yeah. That was just a little verbal jab to break the ice of our first meeting.” Mary calmly shook her head. No. I used to be quick with a smile. But these days… “I’ve just got to regain my composure a little, that’s all.” The door to the bar suddenly flung open to let a throng of barhoppers flood in. It was almost time for things to start picking up at the bar―a bit too “wholesome” for a trio of agents to chew the fat over old times. The three got the hint that it was time for them to leave. The city had now fully taken on its nighttime mien when they left the bar. Everywhere they looked, buildings rose into the sky like walls, and from every wall lights winked and blinked to encourage the jovial mood of those below. “I think you can wait until tomorrow morning to ‘get your composure back,’ can’t you?” Ramon attempted to entice his new, blue team member into some real merrymaking. “I know a place nearby where I can treat you to some tequila that will curl your toes.” Kasumi, Eiji-Destroy the Way of Kyokugen. Toward this end, Eiji Kisaragi committed himself to rigorous physical trials. Leaving home and family behind, he ran through fields and took up residence in the mountains to temper his body through painful trials. Just how many days and months had elapsed in this pursuit? Sensing the fruits of his labors had paid off, Eiji finally descended from the mountain. There was no other venue than KOF to vindicate his honor. But to participate in that tournament, he required two other allies sympathetic to his cause. (Yes, they too must share my rage for revenge.) Eiji possessed confidence in his own power, but since KOF had to be a team effort, he needed not only skilled fighters but common enemies of the Way of Kyokugen…. That was to say, he needed to allies that shared his objective. (If I fail to do to that, I will suffer the same undreamed of defeat I did before.) One possible team member soon came to mind: Kasumi, the expert in the Way of Todo, daughter to Ryuhaku Todoh. Eiji immediately set to find her, explain his aims, and entreat her to join up with him. “To win KOF…. No, should we defeat the Way of Kyokugen, that renown is sure to reach the ears of your father, Master Ryuhaku.” “I certainly cannot deny that! Very well, if you think I can help then count me in!” Since this aim jibed with her original goals, Kasumi was quick to accept the offer to join the tournament. “Well if that’s decided there is one thing I must make sure of.” “And what may that be, Mistress Kasumi?” “Whether that rumor that Takuma Sakazaki was defeated by the mysterious miscreant is true or not.” “Harumph. What foolishness…” Eiji could not even entertain the thought: “Takuma Sakazaki, defeated?” Unlike Eiji, however, who had been living in self-imposed exile on a mountaintop, Kasumi, in her limited contact with the city around her, had often heard this “rumor”―an urban legend, perhaps? Kazumi had even nosed around the neighborhood of the Kyoku Karate dojo. “Yeah, Takuma was beaten senseless by some thug―Heard he’s in the hospital now.” The truth was plainly obvious. Kasumi rushed to the hospital, for how could the housewife living next-door to the Kyokugen dojo be wrong? ※ ※ “Forgive me, Yuri. If I weren’t in such a sorry state…” “Father, you promised not to mention that.” “I just have one regret. Never seeing the third generation of Kyokugen… Ack! Gah-ha!” “Master, I told you not to strain yourself!” (H-how could this be happening?!) Kasumi, who had been watching this play out as she hid in the shadows of the nurses’ center was amazed at this shocking turn of events: Takuma Sakazaki? Knocking at Death’s Door?!!! “What do I do? What should I do…? If Father hears about this it would kill him for sure!” “It’s just one big case of hypochondria!” “Yeah, hypochondria, and it’s terminal…Huh? Hypochondria?” “Shoosh! He’ll hear you!” In contrast to Kasumi, intending to hide herself clumsily in the shadow of a pillar, the somewhat smaller young girl slinks along the walls undetected with sleek, cat-like movements. Spying Kasumi, she notes that the patients and nurses are shooting her suspicious glances, but no one takes not of this girl here. Kasumi is completely oblivious to the vital difference between herself and she. “Weren’t you in last year’s KOF tournament with Athena and Hinako? “Uh-huh. The name’s Malin. You must be, Kasumi.” ※ ※ “So, Mistress Malin! Will you do us the honor of helping us out?” “You betcha! I’ve been looking for someone to join forces against those Kyokugen creeps, too! So you came along at the right time!” Kasumi and Malin, having taken their business to a coffee shop near the hospital, summon Eiji to let him in on the developments. The proposal for Malin to join their team is also broached, thereby bringing about the auspicious beginning of the “Anti-Kyokugen Team.” “Well, that’s that, but what of that previous matter regarding him faking it all?” “Huh? He can’t be faking something like that.” How could anyone be taken in by that two-bit performance? Does this girl really have what it takes? Malin saw right through it, but just hemmed and hawed like some braying donkey. “I checked it out. There’s no mistaken it.” Malin pulls out a weekly from the coffee shop’s magazine rack, her forehead crinkling with concentration. A special article on the upcoming KOF tournament opens the publication and some of this year’s prospective team groupings are included along with the contestants’ photos. “Hmm, so why would Takuma Sakazaki pull something like that…?” “Beats me; I’m no psychic.” Malin pulls out a ballpoint pen and begins to scrawl things all over the magazine. “By the way, what’s your reason for holding a grudge against the Kyokugen, Malin?” “They’re always finding fault with my fighting style; so what if I use weapons?” “Ha, that’s ridiculous.” A little chuckle ushered out from under the mask that covered half of Eiji’s face. “I’m of the mind that even heavy firearms are fine―combat’s supposed to be all about the clash of weapons, am I wrong? Against weapons? Ryo Sakazaki, what a priss!” “I’m not talking about Ryo; it’s Yuri’s who gets my goat.” As the conversation continues, Malin continues to doodle busily. The picture of Yuri in the magazine now includes a cross-shaped scar on her forehead and a copious collection of protruding nose hairs―a bit of graffiti overkill, perhaps? “Well, well, we each have our reasons to fight. In any case, we stay together until the end of the tournament. Agreed?” “Agreed. As the honor of the Way of Todoh depends on it!” “OK. Leave it all up to me, Malin. ♪” And so the surprisingly swift formation of the Anti-Kyokugen Team was concluded. Although vastly different tenor of the team compared to last year’s incarnation gave him pause, Eiji was, for the time being, satisfied. The other two were no more than placeholders. If the situation demanded, he was prepared to defeat all of his enemies on his own. “Heh, heh, heh, Kyokugen stooges…this time I turn the tables on all of you!” Ryo, Yuri, King-“Forgive me, Yuri. If I weren’t in such a sorry state…” “Father, you promised not to mention that.” “I just have one regret. Never seeing the third generation of Kyokugen… Ack! Gah-ha!” “Master, I told you not to strain yourself!” A short while after Ryo Sakazaki was attacked during the last KOF tournament… Misfortune piles upon misfortune: a series of projects crucial to the Garcia Foundation concomitant to this year’s event make Robert’s participation impossible. At this rate, Ryo and Yuri’s participation will also become an undeniable reality. “So won’t you lend us a hand, King…? Ack! Gah-hah!” Since the tone of Takuma’s voice over the phone seemed feebler than usual, King rushed to the hospital, making the effort to bring a bouquet of flowers just in case. But when she arrived for her visit, she was in for a surprise. Takuma, who had supposedly been hospitalized for nearly a year, appeared strangely in the pink and as muscular as ever. Yuri, too said to be worn out from nursing her father, seemed equally healthy. “Any-anyway, here. Flowers for you. Enjoy.” “Sorry for worrying you, King…. But when all of those flowers have fallen, I’ll be dead.” “Father, don’t be so negative!” “Oh, in the end to never see the third-generation of the Kyokugen lineage.” Just then a passing female nurse peeked into the sickroom. “Good gracious, Mr. Sakazaki, what are you up to today?” “Huh? Oh, nothing. Nothing at all….” “My, my, my. That’s not like my usually plucky Mr. Sakazaki, is it?” “Y-you must have me confused with someone else.” “Yeah! This is just…Yeah! The last burst before the candle flame goes out!” “That’s right! I can count his days left on my hand!” The nurse, looking as if she still had something left to say, pushed Yuri and Robert from the room. “You guys…” King pinched the bridge of her nose as if she were getting a headache in her eye and shook her head in disgust. “Mr. Sakazaki, time for your examination.” A nurse different than the one before entered. (Nuts, why do these nurses keep coming in here one after another?!) (Maybe because this is a hospital.) The nurse, not giving a second thought to Robert’s feelings, stuck the thermometer in Takuma’s mouth in a business-like manner. “That reminds me, Mr. Sakazaki.” “W-what is it? Gah-ah Gah-ha.” “You wouldn’t know anything about someone, perhaps due to a lack of hospital food, sneaking out of the hospital at night recently to go to the drugstore across the street?” “I wouldn’t even venture a guess. Gah-ha, Gack!” “That person puts on a long-nose goblin’s mask to hide his identity, but you really honestly don’t know a thing about it, do you?” “N-nope, don’t have a clue.” According to the nurse, the hospital patient wearing the goblin’s mask has outstanding physical abilities allowing him to easily leap over the two-meter high hospital gate to invariably buy Japanese soba noodles at the drug store. The thermometer reads 36.5 degrees centigrade. Nothing wrong here, thought the nurse. ※ ※ “…and that’s why I came to see your father.” “Sorry, King. I’m so sorry! …Forgive my father’s, my sister’s and my foolishness.” Ryo bows his head to King as he referred to everyone in his family as equally foolish. “Enough. Anyway, I suppose you’re still doing nothing but training, huh?” “Huh? …Yeah, well. My students have all gone home. Now’s my time.” A trace of the sacred is present in the dojo now free of the noise of clashing children. The floor is swept and cleansed clean from corner to corner. A fresh sakaki plant lies on the Shinto altar. Crispy pressed training wear is at the ready. Silence reigns over this space. “So, how is his physical condition really? Since he’s in the hospital is something wrong?” “Are you referring to his wound after the last KOF? That was mainly an old injury acting up again, which was treated and he was quickly released. He’s been admitted for tests this time.” “Tests?” “My father’s no spring chicken. They tossed him in the hospital for a week coinciding along with a thorough checkup. And they found high blood sugar, something with his liver, so thanks to that he’s been getting some quiet time.” “If he has too much free time, he may plot another incident like this.” “…I suppose so.” The silence hurts his ears with the break in the conversation. Ryo eyes suddenly race around hinter and yon to come up with a topic of conversation. “W-well, it’s true my father’s condition isn’t perfect. And it’s no lie that Robert can’t devote himself to KOF this year. Me and Yuri need to worry about our reputation, and, to tell the truth, bringing one of my disciples to KOF would be pushing it.” “Then what are you going to do?” “It’s a good opportunity to throw in the towel. And there’s time to think about me finally getting serious about running the dojo, I suppose. “…Hmmm.” A breeze blows through all of the opened windows in the dojo. “I suppose you’ve reached your own “Kyokugen,” you own limit? “Huh?” “This is the Kyokugen dojo, isn’t it? You’ve reached the limit of your strength.” “You’ve got to be kidding, King.” Ryo had this to say. The way of the warrior is long and deep. I’m just a tyro. I have a lot of training and battles ahead of me…. “Then fight. This isn’t like you, is it? Fighting tournaments on the level of KOF don’t come along every day, do they?” “But the member…” “Ryo, all you have to do is now is just ask ‘Give me a hand.’” “…I guess so. Thanks, King. I’m obliged to you.” ※ ※ “That’s just like King. She saw right through my skillful ploy.” “At this rate I know I’ll never see the face of the third generation….” “I’ve got it, Master! As far as Kyokugen’s third generation goes, Yuri and I…Ooof!” “Mr. Sakazaki, there is no punching in the patient’s rooms!” “Anyway, time for my next plan. You two, listen up.” “… …” B. Janet, gato, Tizoc-With its huge amount of prize money and its invariably mysterious turn of events, B. Jenet, leader of the chivalrous band of Lillien Knights has decided to enter KOF. The House of Behrn, is a one of the world’s most prominent financial entities. And Jennie is its only daughter. But this gajillionaire’s daughter to which the epithet “well-bred young lady” no longer applies is no more. In spite of her fine breeding, her behavior is rash. She has already set her sights on her team’s two other members. One is a wandering Chinese boxer, the other a pro wrestler. ※ ※ “Hello, is your name Gato, perchance?” “…If it is, what’s it to you?” The oncoming passer-by is a tough-looking Chinese man all would do well to avoid. Looking into Gato’s grim gaze is somewhat akin to having a knife thrust before your face and significantly decreases your penchant for chit-chat―if you’re normal, that is. “You and me entering KOF together, what do you say? ♪” Jenet began her negotiations without a hint of fear. I’ll divide the prize money three ways: 60, 20, 20. I’ll bear the necessary expenses. As for transportation, I place the Lillien Knights’ submarine at your disposal. ♪ “… …” “Tut-tut-tut. Okay, I’ll divide the prize money equally. That should seal the deal!” “Out of my way, toots.” People passing by this exchange had begun to worry for Jenet due to her inability to discern the other’s hate. This conversation was not bound for a peaceful conclusion. “Hey, still not good enough? Then…” Gato forcefully shoved Jennie aside and walked on. Her pace, however did not waver. “How about information regarding your father, then?” Gato stopped dead in his tracks. “…Just what would you like to tell me? How much do you know about me?” “Don’t underestimate the intelligence network of the Lillien Knights! Oh, no, no!” Jennie chided, but over half of what she said was a false show of strength. Gato had been traveling in search of his father, who was also his target for revenge, so he had himself been trying to scare up some information here. Were anyone to ask around, they would know what he was up to. But one problem remained. Would this ploy work? “Have you ever heard of Kyokugen?” It would be rare for anyone who had any appreciation of the fighting arts not to. Each year this orthodox school of karate was invariably in the running to win KOF. Takuma Sakazaki, especially, now over fifty years old and showing no signs of letting up, was pretty famous. Everyone in Southtown confident in their abilities had also heard rumors of Takuma’s assault at the hands of a mysterious assailant and his hovering between life and death. “Just his name…you have to be kidding!” “I don’t know the specifics, but if you help me out, I suppose I could expand my investigations. How about it?” “… …” “That’s decent, isn’t it? Information on your father plus a cut of the prize money―40-30-30. OK?” ※ ※ “…So, I can’t go into detail, but I have to enter KOF with that scary violent guy. Boo, hoo.” “Wow, that’s rough. So, what does that does that have to do with old Tizoc here?” The pro wrestlers’ locker room, just after the match has ended. This place supposedly ensuring a sufficiently spacious area seems rather cramped when the gigantic figure of the 215 centimeter-tall Tizoc occupies it. Naturally, this room was restricted to wrestlers only, but when Jennie pretended to be an enthusiastic fan bearing a bouquet of flowers, getting to this point was a snap. Jennie forced up some more tears and continued to plead her case. “I’ve learned a few fighting moves myself. But…” Being of a timid nature, be it the difficulty of getting through KOF or fighting alongside Gato is a real trial for delicate little me. No food has passed my lips for days, and I can’t get a good night’s sleep for the worry, Jennie explained. “Then I saw your valiant figure before me―you who never gives in to dirty tricks, the bird who fights for the children. I thought surely you’d come to my aid.” Tizoc, listening attentively with his arms as thick as logs folded, nodded deeply. “I see your position. I’ll help you.” “What? So simply?” “Did you say something?” “No, nothing at all.” “KOF is known for its generous prize money. I’d have liked to have made some “Tizoc Seats” at the venues so the children could have seen matches for free.” “R-really? Then I’ll divide the prize money among us: 60-20-20. Tizoc once again bowed deeply. “Money is no problem. It’s all about ‘heart.’” This time Jennie nodded deeply, sympathizing with his sentiments: “You said it.” “But if you could increase my take just a tad, it sure would help out the orphanage―it’s having such a time making ends meet. “… …” “No, I guess I won’t push it. I’m sure you have a variety of expenses to bear.” “…OK. OK! I’ll make it 40-30-30. But that’s the best I can do.” ※ ※ “Oh, Captain, welcome back!” “How did it go, Captain? Are Gato and Griffon on board with your machinations?” “… …” “What’s wrong? Did they turn you down?” “No, everything’s peachy! We’re doing this gratis…” “Gratis?” Jennie responded dispiritedly. “Surprisingly, it’s hard to turn a profit when everyone’s got their hand out. Yoh, ho!” Athema, Kensou-“Long time, no see… Things going all right with you, Athena?” Shii Kensu, having trained under Chin Gentsai’s tutelage this past year, is back. His face fiercely taut, his body tempered like steel, his body beefed up for action. His psycho power more polished than ever. Those he passes on the street cannot help looking back at this very model of a warrior… …thinks Shii Kensu alone, no real change in his appearance being all that noticeable. Nevertheless, since his self-confidence has slightly improved, it appears his attitude is a little more majestic than usual. Athena is slated to arrive shortly at the pension where they will train for KOF. Kensu strains to pull some large obects and a small paper box packed with pork dumplings as a treat for everyone and be the first to arrive. “Pork dumplings…” A girl sits on the ground cradling her knees, looking small and quiet. Her gaze slides to the box of pork dumplings as Kensu raises it. Testing her, the girls gaze shifts to the right as he moves it right. To the left as he moves it left. Clothed in a loosely fitting outfit, her puffy hair is tied with a peach-colored ribbon. Her big eyes but part of her youthful features and her age is in the vicinity of a sixth-grader. ‘Neeeeeeeeeeeeeee.’ One almost gets the impression you can hear the sound her gaze gives off. Kensu weighed in his mind the girl and the pork dumpling box a few times then sighed with regret. ※ ※ “My name is Shii Kensu, but you can call me Kensu.” “I’m Momoko!” Holding the big pork dumpling with both hands, Momoko energetically introduces herself as she gobbles down her treat. …Perhaps she’s a fourth grader?” “Hmm, Momo-chan, is it? Are you lost, Momo-chan?” “Don’t call me Momo-chan!” Momoko strongly objects. It’s just that she doesn’t know where her house is. (Wouldn’t that mean you’re lost?) Kensu suppresses his comeback, leading him to think that evinces, in some way, his emotional growth. “So, whereabouts is your house? Is there some sort of landmark nearby?” “Let me see. There are three big cherry trees in a park near my house.” “You don’t say? That’s right by where I’m heading. Well, shall I take you there?” “Yeee-eah!” The sky on the outskirts of town is clear and the weather fine. Nothing wrong with a little walk. And I can also treat myself to a nice little chat. “…So, anyway, this girl’s an idol, but she’s totally hot on me.” “Hmmmm.” Climbing over the gently sloping hill they spy the well-kept lawn of the small park. Three old cherry trees stand there, and were it spring, they’d be quite a sight to behold. “She never tells me she’s an idol, but I’ve caught on to her.” “Is that so?” “She’s nowhere near my level, but she is a force to be reckoned with.” “Yeah, I know, she’s been in KOF.” “O-of course! You’ve done your homework!” Kensu, his mood improved, was now talking up a storm. Each year we always top the list of possible winners, but that old alcoholic keeps insisting on joining every year so we, thanks to that albatross around our necks we often come up short. Yeah, my covering for him helps, but even a so-called Psycho Soldier genius like me can only do so much. Then there’s the kid and panda to consider, talk about rough. You probably don’t know about them, but my life sure is no picnic! “Ah! It’s Athena!” “…Say what?” “Momo! Just where did you run off to?” Athena Asamiya, who had been in the park, begins to run towards them. And Momoko, too, bolts from Kensu’s side to energetically embrace her in greeting. “I was so worried… Oh, Kensu, too? What’s up?” “…We haven’t seen each other for a year, you know. That’s harsh, Athena.” During his training in a far-off land he had eagerly awaited this moment, but Kensu now scowled at having his various hopes for this reunion ruined. And what was up with the kid, anyway? “Let me introduce you. This is Momoko, who at the recommendation of the Master is going to enter KOF with us.” “…Come again?” “We’ve already completed the provisional entry. You, Momoko, and I are going to be the New Psycho Soldier Team!” New? What’s this “new” stuff? He knew that the Psycho Soldier Team sat last year’s tournament out, but what did this all mean―why not the Master, or Bao? “No, I mean…You we went through this with Bao, but was our only choice some grade-schooler, and to top it all of a girl? I think the Master has finally gone senile.” “Hey, I’m no grade-schooler!” “Then you must be in junior high, huh? I’m certain about that…” “I’m in high school!” “In high school?! Get out of here! At any rate this girl who looks like a grade-school student in a violent tournament like KOF…” “You did it again! Grade-schooler! I am not in grade school!” With this Momoko ended her objections and flashed Kensu a “gotcha” grin somewhat akin to a high school student. “Hey, hey, Athena.” “Yes?” “I heard you were an ‘idol?’” “That’s right. That’s how I put food on my table. What about it?” “You’re also head over heals in love with Kensu, aren’t you?” “Fooo-ha!” Kensu coughed as if he had been drinking water that went down the wrong pipe. He had realized what this naïf was now talking about. “And Kensu is a ‘Psycho Soldier Genius,’ isn’t he?” “…H-he just may be.” “Is the Master really an ‘alkee-holic’ and an ‘albatross?’” “B-beats me.” “Do you think Kaoru is ‘creepy’ and a ‘pain in the neck?’” “…Uh, Kensu, may I have a word with you?” “H-hold on. Now just hold on, Athena. This is not like it may seem…” ※ ※ The next week, KOF applied for formal entry into the KOF tournament. Among the names for their team was listed Athena Asamiya, Momoko, and Kensu, the Psycho Soldier Genius. Category:Blog posts